Dragon Age: The Throne
by T.K. Edwards
Summary: The ongoing story of Tonan Theirin as he rules the land of Ferelden while trying to prepare his kingdom for a future blight. Not only will he forced to deal with the political intrigues of his own kingdom but that of Orlais as well. (OC as king Anora as queen and Cailan as a prince)
1. 9:25 Dragon

**1**

_**9:25 Dragon**_

It was quite strange.

The palace was quite at night, he could hear almost nothing. If he concentrated hard enough he could hear the winter wind blowing. It was peaceful. He could think without the distractions of leading a country.

Tonan Theirin, the first son of Maric Theirin and brother to Cailan Theirin looked at the empty halls, trying to let the reality of it all sink in. He was king now. His father had disappeared at sea a month ago and was presumed dead. His father best friend and adviser, Loghain Mac Tir spent the entire month looking for him. But now, after the coronation and Maric's funeral here he was.

He was the favourite. His father taught him how to rule, how to fight, how to navigate politics. Tonan was scholar by the best scholars in Ferelden, the Free Marches and even spent a year with the Cousland family.

He was happy, content as a child to him his father immortal. A living legend, who was larger than life a man who drove out the Orlesian Empire after decades of occupation. The warrior king, he went to bed with these stories fresh in his mind. Even when he was in his teens, he enjoyed the stories of his father. But with his disappearance those stories stung when he heard or read them.

He was twenty one years of age. He was king, the crown fit, the people loved him the Bannorn bowed to him and respected him. But he couldn't bring himself to accept it. How can he replace his father as king? A man who won the hearts and minds of all of Ferelden, united them as Calenhad had done and drove out the Orlesians. Tonan had won no great battle, he didn't earn the title of king. He inherited it. He did not feel worthy to wear the crown. He felt that his brother would resented him for it.

Cailan his younger brother didn't resent him, but he never talked to him after the coronation. Cailan got their mother's love for books. As a child he would read fables and fairy-tales, when he was older he took to learning the swords so he could one day place his name into such books.

He was treated by the nobility as a fool, a simple man. Cailan wasn't a fool or simple, he just wanted to forge his own path. Something Tonan was envious of. Cailan was free to make his own decisions. He wasn't the heir to the throne. But Tonan got the feeling if he did become king instead of him then he would die young in some battle.

A sound echoed in the hall, and a door creaked open. Bare foot steps echoed about, he knew who it was and he knew why she exited the room.

"You'll catch your death out here." She said with a soft, kind voice.

Tonan turned around and saw her, Anora, the future Queen of Ferelden. She was hearing her sleeveless tunic, highlighting her features and exposing her legs. Her lips were pursed and her hair, while usually tied up in some fashion of another was down and messy. She had woken up to find her future husband gone from their bed.

"Sorry, I couldn't sleep." He smiled to reassure her. But she saw through him.

"It's Maric again. Isn't it." She asked softly her lips returning to their normal form.

If it were only the fact of missing his father. How could he tell her that he was having doubts about being king? The coronation was a few days ago and the funeral for his father was only yesterday!

Anora gracefully made her way to her lover and gently wrapped her arms around him. "You don't have to suffer alone. My father shares in your grief and I am here to talk to. You know that. I love you." She said as if a whisper.

Loghain knew his father for a long time, during the Orlesian Occupation. He helped the Maric in his efforts to kick the Orlesian Empire out of Ferelden. Perhaps talking about his father will help him fully accept the crown, and maybe learn more about his father back when he was younger.

"Alright then. I shall see your father in the morning." He kissed her, it was sweet, just like their first kiss.

She gave him a smile. That smile. It made him happy, more sure of himself. She was his strength.

"Let's go back to bed then." She whispered.

The next day he was up early. He couldn't get to sleep his mind still conflicted about being king. He knew his duties well and how to preform them, but, it just did not feel right to him. There was so much expected of him, there was murmurs at court about an heir to secure the family line. Another thought for another time, it was best not to think about that just yet.

He stood in front of the wash basin, the water was cold, the way he liked it. He splashed the cold liquid on his face, its icy touch made his body tremble with the cold and just like that he felt a bit refreshed. Looking in the mirror next to the basin he could see the signs or tiredness on his face. The dark circles under his eyes was clear, anyone who saw them would assume he had been having trouble sleeping.

If Anora saw them she would worry. He didn't want her to worry she would doing that when she becomes Queen.

It was strange to think that a man who was raised from a commoner to Teyrn would sire a daughter would then go onto marry the king. Many at court did not like the idea of "common" blood mixing with the royal bloodline. A Teyrn was nobility, but many saw Loghain as a simple commoner even though he was a hero who helped drive out the Orlesians.

Tonan knew this and didn't care what they thought, he loved Anora that was all that mattered in his eyes. Maker spit on anyone who spoke differently.

He dressed himself in his finest Ferelden made suit, he put on his fir cloak to keep the chill in the air out, and at least the cold might keep him awake. Anora had asked that the royal wedding be pushed back to the spring which was only a month or two away. Loghain agreed, he rarely seemed to disagree with his own daughter.

She had a way of getting her own way. When they were younger she had Cailan on leash so to speak, it was fun to watch, but she couldn't get her way with him try as she might. Ever since they were kids, Anora followed his lead because she couldn't get her own way. At first she didn't like it, but then she started to warm up to it. Loghain said it was good for her, being led by a person smarter than her.

Their adventures as kids got them into trouble at time, but he was good at making excuses, believable ones. Loghain wanted to arrange the marriage between him and Anora at a young age, but Maric told him to let them make their own way.

He spent a year with the Mac Tir's, he was about seven or eight at the time. There he learnt the ways of a tactician from Loghain. That's when he met Anora, Cailan visited time to time arriving with Arl Eamon, their uncle. After the year was up he left with Maric to study with the Cousland family. He remembered Anora crying, not balling like normal kids, it was silent tears.

They met when he was sixteen, at a tourney in honour of his sixteenth birthday. That's when he started to see her more as a lover than a friend. She felt the same way. After the tourney, Loghain spend more time at the palace meaning Anora would be staying as well. They used that time together to begin their relationship.

The memories were sweet, just thinking of them made his heart beat just that bit faster. But these memories alone could not dispel his thoughts on being king. Loghain would be waiting on him in his chambers. Best not to keep the Hero of River Dane, and soon to be father-in-law waiting.

Loghain was looked at a painting of Maric and Rowan, Tonan's mother, he looked sombre his heart was heavy with grief from his friends loss.

"After all the troubles and battles we fought our way out of. I didn't think you would die. Seems as if I was wrong, my friend." He said towards the painting as if it were Maric himself.

Loghain turned his attention to him now, he looked slightly embarrassed. Caught talking to a painting would look bad to some, as a sign of age or demonic possession. Tonan didn't judge Loghain was grieving in his own way and that was fine.

"Anora said over breakfast that you are having some trouble sleeping? I can hardly blame you. You lost a father. I understand how you feel." He said with a weak smile.

"It's more than trouble sleeping. It's..." He paused considering his words carefully. "I don't feel like I should be king. I didn't earn it, not like father did. I know that how succession is supposed to go, but still."

"Maric trained you as a warrior, bought tutors to teach you how to speak other languages, sent you to the Couslands to learn how to rule and sent you to me to learn military strategies. He was shaping you to become this lands new king. He wanted you to a better king than he was."

"But he was better than me. He defeated the Orlesians, he won the hearts of the people. He had something that made them do that and I don't have that!"

Loghain shook his head in disagreement. "You are your fathers son, trust me, you have what he had."

Maric, the hero king was a legend. Even with the training that his father had provided over the years he still felt, inadequate. His father was still loved by the people even though he was gone. Would the nobility listen to him? Could he rule a nation like he father had before him? All these questions left him feeling doubtful.

Loghain placed his hand on his shoulders and looked at him, his gaze was intense. "You are the king. Maric's grandfather believed that only a man who was unsure whether he could be a king, deserved to be a king. You have all want you need to be the king, if that fails you have allies. Your uncle Eamon, the Cousland family and myself and even Anora."

That was true, his uncle Eamon was the Arl of Redcliffe and a popular man with the nobility, despite marrying an Orlesian woman who became the Arlessa. He had years of experience as an arl ruling his lands, he even had allies with some of the banns. The Cousland family served the crown loyally, they were one of the oldest families in Ferelden dating back even before Calenhad had united Ferelden. That gave him some comfort, but still his doubts lingered.

"Thanks for the talk. It helped." He said. _But not that much_, he thought to himself.

Loghain gave him a wider happier smile. "You will see. In the coming days you will make for a better king than your father."

He hoped it was true.

"What are your plans then Loghain? Will you continue the search of my father?"

Loghain paused, and closed his eyes. "Yes." He sighed.

The next day started as any other day, waking up realizing that he had little sleep during the night, again. It came to no surprise to him. Anora greeted him with a worried smile before leaving with the Grand Cleric to plan the wedding. It was clear to him that everyone was worried, and that made him worry even more. With everyone's eyes on him the slightest sign of weakness could spark rumors, rumors that would lead to plotting, plotting would lead to a noblemen striking at him to rise above his station.

He shook his head violently, he was over-thinking things. That would never happen. Would it? If history had taught him anything is that king must be strong, otherwise other would capitalize on the weakness. Many kings had been overthrown that way across Thedas.

It would be bad if his reign as king would end in a similar matter. He didn't want to see Ferelden fall back into warring Teyrn's and Bann's. It would undo everything that his father fought to protect and undo the structure that Calenhad had set up centuries ago. He needed to be strong, strong not just for himself, but for all of Ferelden and her citizens. From the lowest freeholder, to the highest noble, he need to show them that he could—no, he corrected himself—He can lead Ferelden.

Today would be the first real test as king. The Grey Wardens were slowly rebuilding, Maric allowed their order to return to Ferelden when Tonan was just a boy. His father was allied with the Grey Wardens on a journey through the deep roads. Tonan barely remembered his father was missing at the time.

Warden-Commander Duncan had hoped to meet with Maric to discuss a recruiting policy with the Wardens. They had few numbers here in Ferelden, so few became Grey Wardens. Maric told him two years ago that a blight may occur in the future, though he didn't know when or how. A blight was a terrible thing, an old god would be found by the darkspawn and tainted by their corruption, and it would become an Archdemon it then lead a spawn to surge on the surface.

Four Blights had been recorded in the histories. Each one painted a grim tale. Many believed that they were all killed during the Fourth Blight, but, it was not so. The Grey Wardens knew, no one listen to them. Except for Maric. Maric believed a blight would occur, Tonan believed him. His father was not one to lie to him. When he did…it was heart breaking.

Duncan knew his father, he travelled with him into the deep roads many years ago. Tonan respected the Grey Wardens, they have an honoured place in Ferelden also the story of their heroism had given him much inspiration in past. Cailan was more interested in the Wardens than he was. Cailan wanted to ride into battle with the Wardens to stem the tide of evil.

Cailan loved his fascinations, sometimes Tonan thought that Cailan wished to join the Wardens. Not that he would blame him though.

Making his way to the throne room he caught a glimpse of Cailan, he was talking to one of the Wardens. A female elf. He could tell she was a Warden because of her uniform, the Grey Warden symbol was on her arm and breastplate.

Curious. Maybe Cailan was planning to join the Wardens after all.

The elven woman had dalish marking on her face. He had never seen a dalish before, he'd only heard about them from nobles who petitioned his father to drive them off their lands when the clans passed through Ferelden. Maric dismissed them and told them to let them be, he paid the nobles off as reparations.

He wondered what they were talking about, he wanted to walk up to them and over hear something. But he pushed the thought out of his mind and continued making his way to the throne room. There were other Wardens standing outside the room, there were wearing black cloak with the Grey Warden griffin insignia on their back. The cloaks were to guard against the growing winter winds in Ferelden.

Most of them seemed not use to the cold, Orlesians, perhaps? He knew that most of the Wardens numbers were made up of Ferelden's and the rest of Orlesians. Maric had given the Wardens an old abandoned castle in South Reach. There the order was rebuilding, slowly. In the past few years the Wardens had only recruited around a hundred men and women, though rumours said only half had survived the Joining.

As he passed the Wardens they bowed their heads. They knew he was king and showed him the proper respect.

He entered the throne room, in times of a Landsmeet they room would be filled with Arls, Teryns and Banns, to discuss matters big or small, settle disputes and rivalries. Maric had Tonan sit next to him during such a large Landsmeet. Some Bann, he couldn't remember his name, only that he had recently died, brought up the fact that Eamon had married an Orlesian. The Bann called Isolde all sorts of names, spy being the kindest.

Maric settled the dispute quickly, at a young age he admired his father charisma. He remembered the compassion in his father's face when he Eamon made his plea, it was a hard time for his uncle. But he persevered through it all.

Duncan stood in front of the dais, the man's dark skin was distinctive, many thought him to hail from Rivain, Tonan didn't really know if he did or not. The man wore an impressive black beard. It was short but impressive nonetheless.

He knelled as he walked up the dais. This early in the morning there was only one guard in the throne room, Ser Peares, A kind lad, if a bit…overzealous in his duties. He stood wary of Duncan, his stance showed he was ready to defend Tonan in case of an attack.

Tonan sat down on the throne, it fit him perfectly. Duncan continued to knell he looked up at him waiting for a sign to talk. Tonan lifted his hand and Duncan gave a curt nod.

"Thank you for allowing this meeting, your majesty." He started. "You have my sympathies for your father death. He was a good man."

"That he was." Tonan thought back to the last day he saw his father, there something about him then, he was acting odd. His last words were, "I have to do this, to pay off a debt." What did that mean? What debt?

Putting his mind back into the present he saw other Grey Wardens enter the room, they stood at the entrance waiting. The elven girl who was talking to Cailan before was there next a grizzled looking man, a Chasind perhaps.

"I am here to ask you if you could provide the Grey Wardens more recruits." Duncan said, his face seemed troubled, he didn't want to ask this in the first place.

The recruiting policy was more like asking for men. In the past, Maric had allowed Duncan the pick from the city's dungeons with the promise these men would not be punished for their past crimes. Tonan had an idea, a good one. The joining ritual was often fatal, was it not?

"Of course, I have an idea that might please you Duncan." He said.

Strange, he felt odd. A sensation running through him. He couldn't quite place it, the idea quickly came to him with no real thought involved. Could this be what it was like to rule? It felt like a rush was coming over him.

Duncan raised an eyebrow his interest pecked. "What idea might you have, your majesty?"

Tonan explained his idea in detail to Duncan. The idea was a simple one, to allow the Grey Wardens the right to conscript criminals from all over Ferelden. Duncan at first seemed uninterested in the idea but the more he thought about it the more he seemed to like it. The Joining was often fatal if the criminals died then it was okay, but if they survived they could redeem themselves.

"An excellent idea, your majesty." Duncan said. "Though I have my own terms, which I will discuss at a later date." Duncan bowed.

"Very Well."

Duncan rose and turned to leave the throne room. Today was interesting for Tonan, but a thought came to him. This was a chance to ask Duncan about his father.

"Before you go Duncan, a question." He said. Duncan paused and turned to face him.

"What question would that be?"

Tonan wasn't sure what he was going to ask him, sure he could ask what his father was like, but would Duncan's answer be the same as everyone else? Maybe, maybe not it was worth asking.

"What did you think of my father? You did work with him before this did you not?"

"Yes, I did. Your father was unlike any man I had known. But he was still a man, he had—faults—just like any other man."

Tonan smiled "just like any other man" that made his day. His father was just like any other man with his faults, it was a relief to hear that. Everyone else talked as if Maric was some superhuman man, but thanks to Duncan words he knew his father was just a man.

"Thank you Duncan." Duncan bowed one last time and left with his fellow Wardens. The matter of their recruits would be worked out in the coming days until then there was much to do.

"I am the king." He muttered to himself with a smile on his face. "Are you proud of me father? Sitting on your throne. I swear I will be a great king."

* * *

**Hope you enjoyed this. Drop and review and tell me what you think.**


	2. The Wedding Day

**2**

_**The Wedding Day**_

**Spring - 9:26 Dragon**

The spring wind was a welcome touch than that of the cold grasp of winter. The flowers had begun to emerge from the shells of ice and the cover of snow, Ferelden was beautiful this time of the year, perfect for a spring wedding. Not just any ordinary wedding, a royal wedding. Tonan was to marry his love, Anora Mac Tir. The wedding was fast approaching, servants scurried about the palace in a mad rush to see that every detail was perfect before the day. It was common sight around the palace in the past few days. Tonan preferred to stay as far away as he could, occasionally, he would bump into servant hard at work, either washing the bridesmaid's dresses or bringing new dresses form Anora's bridesmaids to wear.

Tonan had his own preparations, sure, but they weren't as extravagant as Anora's she wanted everything on her side to be perfect. He never expected her to be so…girly. Maybe he had shown her it was not a bad thing to show her feminine side. When they were kids she had the mannerisms of a boy. That was likely due to her upbringing, Loghain didn't want her to forget where their family originated from. But over the course of the years she opened up to her female side, it was good to see and it made her…more beautiful if that were possible.

Cailan was staying far away as possible. It was hard for Cailan, he had feelings—still has feelings—for Anora. Arl Eamon warned Tonan to be wary of Cailan and his intentions. That rubbed him the wrong way, but he didn't say anything about it. Cailan became more interested in the Grey Warden's since their last visit, he bought books on the history of the blights, and the history of the Grey Wardens. Rumours began to spread out of the palace that Cailan wished to join the Wardens. Many nobles supported the idea. Mainly because they did not want Cailan to contest the throne and cause a civil war.

Cailan would never covert the throne. He swore in front of the Grand Cleric and all the nobles during the coronation. But in Ferelden's past those words were easily broken.

Tonan sat in his solar, reading the history of Calenhad enjoying the peace and quiet of the day. After a long day of picking out what he was going to wear, making Anora feel at easy when things didn't go as planned and dealing with an argument between two Banns. He needed time to himself to allow him to recharge before today's afternoon proceedings.

This afternoon he was to thank all the nobles that had gathered so far in joining him to witness a royal wedding. Ever since the Orlesians occupied Ferelden, there hasn't been an extravagant royal wedding in nearly a hundred years, his parents' marriage was simple for the time as they had just beating back the Orlesians and the Ferelden treasury was technically non-existent, so it couldn't support such an event.

Now thanks to both Maric and Tonan, the treasury was healthy and there was a surplus, enough to fund the wedding and not affect its health in the slightest. Only one noble was not here and that was Teyrn Loghain, his soon-to-be father-in-law. He had taken much of Gwaren's wealth and half of Ferelden's naval forces to search for Maric at sea.

In his last letter he had written said he would return for the wedding. Anora was anxious, she wanted her father by her side when she wed and by the looks of things he would miss his daughter getting married.

As he put down his book there was a knock at the door. "Enter." He said.

An elven servant entered the solar and bowed. She was named Fahana, she came to work in the palace a month ago. Anora made her one of her handmaidens a week ago, she was impressed by the elf's skills. Tonan occasionally called on her to remind him of meetings nothing more.

"It's nearly time, your majesty. The nobles have gathered and are waiting for you." She said in a thick Ferelden accent. One of Anora's handmaidens was an Orlesian, if Loghain were here he would have removed the elf from her service.

"Thank you." He said politely as he stood up. Fahana moved out of his way and bowed as he exited. She followed shortly and went the opposite way.

The throne room was filled with minor nobles standing in the gallery on either side of the room. To the left of the room stood Teyrn Cousland and Arls Bryland and Wulff they all stood below the gallery. Arl Rendon Howe stood behind them, he was in talks with Bann Esmerelle, bann of the City of Amaranthine. Bann Alfstanna stood on the right side of the room underneath the gallery, she was surrounded by other Banns discussing or arguing over some matter. They all stopped what they were doing when passed them, they bowed before him.

Tonan took his seat on the throne and looked up to the left gallery, Arl Eamon stood next to Bann Sighard and Ceorlic. Eamon looked quite happy with the outcome. Many of the nobles had arrived a day earlier than expected, thanks to the good weather.

"Thank you, my lords and ladies for coming to celebrate my wedding to Anora." He started. "In the short time that I have been your king, you have all warmed my heart with your support and kindness. We are all united thanks to my efforts of my father, your friend, your comrade-in-arm. We shall continue to be united in the years to come, as there is nothing this nation can overcome when we work together as one."

Every noble applauded and cheered at him. Eamon smiled as he clapped slowly together, his face full of pride at his nephew.

Tonan raised his hand and waited as the clapping died down. "In three days the wedding ceremony will begin, a ceremony larger than anyone can remember. Though it may not be to the tastes of some our…Orlesians guests, it will a ceremony to show our culture, a culture not so easily defeated. In the days leading up to the ceremony, be proud of our culture and embrace it. We are Fereldans!"

Another round of applause erupted. Tonan looked on at the room full of nobles, when he became the king he didn't think that he had what it took to lead them. Now as they cheered and gave him blessing, he thought his past self a fool.

"Long live Tonan Theirin, the king of Ferelden!" A lord yelled from the front of the crowd of nobles.

"Here, Here!" they all yelled.

Bryce Cousland approached the dais and took a knee. "You're Majesty. My family thanks you for the invitation to your wedding, I'm honoured. I heard that there will be a tourney, may I ask a boon?"

"Of course. What would you like to ask, Teyrn Cousland?"

"I would ask that my eldest child, Fergus, I wish him to participate in the grand melee."

A curious request. Fergus was a year younger than Tonan himself, he was a capable warrior but as he recalled he was a year young for the grand melee. "Very well, but his safety will not be guaranteed. If he is harmed, it is due to his lack of skill. No offence."

"No offence taken, I wouldn't have it any other way." Bryce stood and returned to his place in the crowd.

It was going to be a long afternoon taking requests from the nobility. But he wouldn't have it any other way at all.

#

_I should tell him, _Cailan thought, holding the still open letter. Cailan read the letter yet and to make double sure of what he had read. He couldn't believe it, it was so sudden but not unwelcome. But others would not like it at all. He knew that Loghain wouldn't, but his own brother? He couldn't be sure. Tonan had changed since becoming king in his eyes.

_After the wedding, then I don't cause an incident._

Cailan folded the letter back up and carefully placed it back in the envelope in came in. the envelope had fancy decorations on it in typical Orlesian fashion. He pocketed in into his cloak and rode down the market district of Denerim. The merchants bowed at him and moved out of his way. He wasn't escorted by many men, just two, who took their job seriously and made sure no one approached him. He was the prince after all.

The ride was long but they managed to arrive at the palace, many of the nobles were clearing out heading to their estates of the Gnawed Noble Tavern for drinks. Cailan would love to join them, he was only ever allowed to drink inside the palace. After the last time he drank at the establishment he woke up the next morning with a black eye and no memory of how he got it. Sure there were stories about it, but no one truly remembered what happened.

He dismounted his horse and made his way into the palace. The guards who had ridded with him took the horses to the palace stables. Making his way past the servants he headed to the throne room to see if his brother was still there.

The throne room was empty, as per usual. Cailan always arrived too late and missed his brother.

"You're late, again." A voice called behind him.

Cailan turned as was surprised to see that the voice belonged to Anora who was standing there, arms folded. "You're always late. You need to arrive on time, the nobles think you are simple." She berated him.

Cailan sighed. "I was _doing _your errand remember? Amaranthine is a long ways away."

Anora scoffed at him. "Yes, well…" She unfolded her arms and let them hang at her sides. "Well…since you're here, I take it my father's ship hasn't returned yet."

Anora's face fell into sadness. Cailan couldn't help but feel sorry for her, the wedding was fast approaching, three days now and still no sign of Loghain or his brig, _River Dane. _It had been months since she had least heard from him, he promised he wouldn't miss her wedding.

"Maybe you should talk to Tonan, see if he can send a search party out for him." Cailan blurted out, he'd say anything to make her feel better.

Anora sighed in exasperation, she gave him a piercing look. "Sometimes I think you are simple. That would take even longer."

That was a low blow, but he deserved it as he clearly didn't think it through.

Anora laughed for a moment, it was a cute laugh one that Cailan never had the opportunity to hear often. Then she turned serious and stared at him for several heartbeat. He felt like he was being judged, her eyes fixed on him checking his character

"Cailan…" she said, breaking the silence. "You really need to get your mind out of the clouds, attend to reality. The stories you read are just that. Stories."

"Why bring this up now? Of all the times?" Cailan yelled, with more anger than he had intended.

Anora frowned at him. "Your brother told me about the other night."

Cailan scowled at her and turned away from her and stomped off. He didn't want to hear it now, not from her, the women he once loved. Everyone was always on his back, no one believed in him or his skills. The nobles saw him as a helpless prince of royal blood, they treat him like a delicate flower that would wilt at any time if not coddled over. Only one person treated him like he wanted to be treat, as a person, not royalty and he loved her for it. But she would not be welcome, just like Isolde it was announced that Eamon would marry her.

Slamming his door shut, he took out the letter he had gotten and opened it up. Reading its content soothed him. _I'll tell them, I'll them all. I don't care anymore! _

#

Three days had passed quickly. The nobility were on their best behaviour no reported brawls, everyone was making merry. The day had finally arrived. She was to marry the love of her life and become the second queen of Ferelden since the Orlesian occupation. Anora prayed to the Maker to allow Tonan's seed to make her pregnant tonight. She wanted to give him a child, so they could raise a family and to secure the line of succession.

She placed her hand on the stomach and prayed again. This time for her father's safe return to Fereldens shore, and that he will make it in time to see her off. The door to her room creaked open. It was Sister Hana, a Chantry sister. She smiled at her.

"Sister Hana…you are early." Anora didn't know what else to say, the sister was supposed to arrive an hour from now.

"I am so sorry about this intrusion. But I just wanted to see how you are holding up." She said with a kind smile. Hana was one of those rare sister who cared and went out of her way to cheer people up. Unlike some others in the Chantry who felt so distant if it wasn't something to do with the Maker.

"I'm fine Hana. I was just praying to the Maker." She gave her a smile.

Hana seemed to relax and she sat down. "Now that I am here, shall we begin, or do you wish me to return in an hour."

Anora grabbed her hair brush and began to brush her golden blonde hair. "We could just…chat for an hour. I mean you're not doing anything important, are you?" She suggested in a sly way.

Hana shook her head. "No, not this day. I am here to listen."

The two talked the time by, Anora listened attentively to Hana's stories about the current gossip going around the Denerim Chantry. The gossip varied from the Orlesian sister that had sexual relations with an affirmed sister to, more serious claims of corruption within one of the chapels in Fort Drakon. As the time flew by and the two got themselves ready and dressed, Anora felt more relaxed. Soon she would walk up to the throne where Tonan would be waiting and the Grand Cleric would start the ceremony.

She silently prayed one last time for her father's return. She wanted him to walk her up to Tonan and stand near her as the two say their vows. Hana wrapped her arm around hers and guided her to the mirror on the other side of the room. It was a fancy looking mirror, Orlesian by design one. Anora suspected that it was left behind after the Orlesians left.

"Look at you. You are beautiful. A girl like you has nothing to fret over." Hana slowly let go of Anora's arm. Anora looked at her reflection. She was beautiful, her white dress with embroidery suited her well. She had just the right about of exposed skin. There was something missing in the reflection, she looked to her left and saw…no one.

The happiness drained from her face, replace with a sad look about her. "Father should be standing next to me."

Hana looked at the door and back at Anora again. "My lady." She gasped.

Anora turned to face her and looked where she was looking. She too gasped. "Father." She breathed.

Loghain stood in the door way, he looked tired and that he might fall down at any moment. He took a breath "Words…cannot describe how happy I am. I'm glad I made it in time." He said, there was a sad look to his face, but there was also happiness there as well.

Anora ran to him, tears welling in her eyes and embraced her father. "I'm glad that you made it in time too."

#

Tonan stood on the dais. The carpet was lain, it was red and it was framed with dogs chasing wolfs. It was simple, but it symbolized Ferelden. The nobles gathered, they were not permitted to set foot on the carpet. The Arls were standing in the gallery above, looking. They were all wearing their best attire. Ladies were fine dresses, they were accompanied by their families.

Bryce Couslands wife, Teyrna Eleanor Cousland wore an Orlesian purple dress. Her daughter Elissa Cousland, wore a more common Ferelden dress. Elissa was sixteen years of age and was, if the rumours were true, becoming a fine warrior. Fergus wore an outfit similar to his fathers, except her wore a cloak with the Couslands heraldry stitched into its back.

Arl Howe's family seemed happy, but Tonan could see some cracks in their appearance. Rendon Howe's wife distanced herself from her husband, their children Nathaniel, Delilah and Thomas seemed happy enough, Delilah herself was looking at Fergus Cousland.

_Young love maybe? _He thought.

The Grand Cleric stood in front of the throne, adorned in her Chantry robes. Wearing a necklace for this occasion. It was the same sun burst, symbol used throughout the Chantry. She wore it well as any good Andrastian would. She was showing grey around her temple, she stood with the patience of stone.

The decorations were not to overpowering, nothing on the scale of what the Orlesians were able to pull off, thank the Maker for that.

Cailan stood behind him. He had not spoken to him in the three days that had passed. He just stood there in his outfit. A bright orange outfit with a sword was stitched on the chest. He was fidgeting, which drew scowls from some of the nobles and even the Grand Cleric. He was oblivious to it of course, up in his own world. Maybe he was simple. Though he didn't act it at times.

The throne room door swung open Tonan looked and was happy to see Anora, and wrapped around her arm was her father Loghain, he smiled, Loghain made in time for his own daughter's wedding. There strode up to the dais, Loghain let her down and she took graceful began to step up and stood in front of Tonan.

"Glad you made it." He whispered.

"Me too."

The Grand Cleric began to chant the Chant of Light, everyone bowed their heads and listened. After than she began to say a few words, and blessed the two in the name of the Maker. Then it was time to say their vows to each other. As Tonan spoke he thought of the time that he and Anora would spend together, he picture a family of three children, family meals in the dining halls, training his sons while Anora taught their daughter. Then the vows were over.

"You may now kiss the bride."

And so they did, it was a sweet kiss. All other kisses they shared couldn't compare to this one. This one sealed their marriage. It was dawning onto Anora's coronation, a simple ceremony when the Grand Cleric said her words and presented Anora in front of all the nobility. It went by so quickly, and that was it. They were married and she became his queen.

This was the beginning of something special. He could feel it.

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**Note: Just a minor repost changing the title structure of the series. If your reading for the first time please review and let me know what you think.**


	3. The Wedding Night

**Hey everybody I'm back with another chapter. If you have any reviews, comments, thoughts both positive and any criticisms please leave them but be polite. Also a lot of credit to my epic beta reader ffdrake! Who helped me with this chapter.**

******Hope you all enjoy this chapter! **

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**3**

_**The Wedding Night**_

**Royal Palace Great Hall**

Music drifted through the silent streets of Denerim as the celebration feast began. The nobles sat at the table sharing stories while drinking and eating. Servants ran up and down the length of the table trying to attend to everyone needs. The stress had become so bad that Teyrn Cousland and Arl Eamon brought in their own servants to help. Tonan sat next to his queen on the table that was on a dais. He watched the festivities with a smile on his face.

It wasn't as chaotic as it looked, which was good. Though one of the servants did look as if she were about to faint. Bann Reginalda was undoubtedly the loudest out of the nobles gathered, she was drunk and cursing the recent troubles that had hit White River. A dalish clan had camped across the river and began to hunt for food, which did not make the locals happy.

A small group of dalish came across the freeholder who owned the land and the man demanded they leave. The dalish hunters refused and so the man killed one of them making the others flee. The next day the man ended up dead in his own home, his throat slit and a dalish arrows imbedded in his chest.

Relatives of the deceased man demanded retribution, but Reginalda would not force the dalish to leave as the man's death was very suspicious in her eyes. She wanted to find a peaceful way to resolve this. Her decision led to a small riot and the subsequent injuring of her daughter. She droned on and on about it, until she was politely escorted out of the festivities but her own men.

Bann Darby was showing off his trinkets to the others, bragging about their worth until the others were blue in the face. Eventually the noble collected himself and approached the royal table with his master blacksmith, a man named Tilver. Tilver presented a gift to Anora, a silverite breastplate. Tonan's trained eye told him it was of fine make. Anora looked at it dumbfounded but never the less she accepted the gift. As a servant took the breastplate away, Bann Darby bowed and left the hall with his host.

"Does the man think I am to ride into the thick of battle?" Anora whispered.

"No, he's just showing of his blacksmiths skills. Now that you accepted his gift Darby will spread the word to others that the queen accepted his works and his blacksmith will see more patronage." Tonan chuckled.

Anora glared at him as she realized she'd just been, for lack of a better term, used. "I'm going to sell it."

Tonan shrugged. "If that's what you want to do."

"It is, husband."

Her saying that word made it all feel real. They were married now and he was happier than he thought possible. He leaned in to kiss her, meeting her halfway as she too leaned in to kiss him back. Everyone in the room watched and cheered to the happy couple.

Tonan and Anora raised their cups to the crowd of on-lookers, both slightly embarrassed. With that display out of the way everyone returned their attention to what they were doing before. Happily talking, drinking and eating.

Loghain sat at the end of the table, nursing his drink. His mission to locate Maric had failed again. When approached he put on a happy face and joined in conversation, but his mind wandered when left alone.

Anora had spoken to him about Maric. She made it her goal to try and convince him to give up the search. She didn't want him wasting Gwaren's treasury on his search for Maric. Nor did she want his attention diverted from Ferelden.

He was convinced that Anora, with time, could sway her father. His new King and Queen needed Loghain to have straight head, to make use of his tactical skill if what his father told him was true and blight was coming. If the blight were to occur during his life time. It was not a thought to think too much on today. Pushing the blight out his mind he took a drink of wine.

The celebrations continued long into the night its end only coming about as everyone became either tired or too drunk to continue any further. For Anora and Tonan though the night would only end after they'd made love.

Tonan noticed that Cailan was sulking in the back of the hall. Drinking his favourite ale and talking to Arl Rendon Howe. The doors of the hall open allowing Warden-Commander Duncan to enter along with two other Wardens. The room fell silent as the three armoured, but unarmed warriors, made their way through the crowd. The nobles were unsure of what to say to them, they hadn't expected the Grey Wardens to attend the celebrations.

"Glad you could make it Duncan." Tonan said raising his goblet.

Duncan stopped at the bottom of the dais, his arms crossing his chest as he politely bowed. "Sorry were late your Majesties." He apologized.

Waving off the apology he motioned for the three to right themselves. "Don't be sorry. The Grey Wardens have an important task. I am overjoyed that you at least made it."

Everyone in the hall cheered at the Grey Wardens. Duncan nodded curtly at them all. "Thank you, your Majesty." The Wardens took their places at their own table as servants poured them all drinks and served them food.

Cailan abruptly dropped his conversation with Arl Howe and made his way towards the table. He had a goal in mind now. And he would not rest until he at least had a chance to speak with the Grey Wardens. Many nobles raised their eyebrows as they saw where he was heading, but he paid them no heed.

"Ho there Duncan." Cailan said delightfully approaching the aged Warrior.

The Warden-Commander stood and shook Cailan's hand. "Ah, pleased to see you again your Highness." Duncan greeted him in a manner befitting one of Cailan's station. Cailan sat down at his appointed chair that he had neglected from the beginning of the feast.

"How goes the training of the recruits?" Cailan shouted down from the royal table drinking a small amount of ale as he waited for Duncan's reply.

Duncan paused for a moment. "The training is going well." When Duncan didn't comment further Cailan grimaced and took a larger gulp of his ale.

The Wardens wolfed down their meals as if they had not eaten anything for weeks. An elven Warden made such a mess with the gravy Tonan thought that he might drown in the stuff. Cailan laughed as the elven man and the other Wardens joined in. To see such comradely within the Wardens was strange, he'd always thought of the order as too dark and depressing. Their task was an impossible one, fighting endless amounts of the vile darkspawn.

The festivities began to die down, many of the nobility had left already. It was time for Tonan to go to. He helped Anora out of her chair, her cheeks were red. She knew what was next for them as much as he. Raising his fingers he began to softly caress her left cheek. The intimate moment was interrupted by Cailan.

"Brother," Cailan began looking at him steadily but with a twinge of red to his face. "I need a word with you."

Loghain stepped in front of Cailan. "Not now." He said strictly but firmly.

Cailan refused to back down. "No, this is important."

Tonan sighed. Cailan was as stubborn as a Mabari hound. He would not back down even if he was facing the Grand Cleric. "Fine then. Loghain take him to my solar." He looked at Anora and saw the hurt in her eyes. "Don't worry love, I will be back. Make yourself comfortable in our room until I return."

Anora kissed him, igniting a fire within him that made him want to curse his brother twenty times over. "Don't be too long."

#

Cailan was nervous. He didn't know how to put what he wanted to say into words. How could he tell his brother that he was in love with the Empress of Orlais and that she wants to marry him! Loghain wouldn't support the marriage of course, he had too much hatred for Orlais, but he hoped that his brother would support the marriage. But maybe that was too much for him to hope for.

Loghain stood in front of Tonan's desk watching him. Loghain never seemed to like him at all. Cailan got the feeling that Loghain was always judging him, every mistake he had made and every step he took out of place was enough to justify his hatred for him.

"You're nothing like your father." Loghain said finally, with a hint of disgust, or maybe he had imagined that. "Maric was too soft on you, you're spoiled."

Cailan couldn't contain his angry. "Sorry, for not living up to my father's imagine. At least he had one son who did."

Loghain rolled his eyes and turned his back on him. "Whatever you have to say better be important. Your brother has been too kind on you. Letting you do as you please, you're a child still. All the nobility sees it."

Cailan clenched his fist, maybe he should punch some sense into Loghain. Maybe that would show the bastard he was a son of Maric. He raised his fist, ready and willing to send it to him…

"Cailan, Loghain. Enough. Both of you." Tonan yelled from the doorway.

Loghain turned and was surprised to see Cailan with his fist up. Giving him a disapproving look Loghain again turned his back on him. "Letting your anger get the better of you is not a good sign, lad."

Tonan walked up to his desk and took a seat. Cailan swallowed his anger down and released his fist. "I'm sorry brother."

Tonan just sat there staring at him. "So?" He said waiting for Cailan to say his piece. "What is it that was so important you felt the need to interrupt my wedding night brother?"

Cailan froze. He had a whole speech planned out for this moment. But now that he was standing here...he didn't know what to say. He had expected, or rather hoped, that Loghain would leave but instead the elder man stood stock still at the end of the table. Sighing Cailan took the letter from his pocket and placed it on the desk.

Tonan read the letter and his face said it all. "You what!" He yelled slamming the letter down on the desk and rising quickly to his feet.

Loghain snatched up the letter and proceeded to read it. His eyes widened as they scanned over the writing. "That harlot! So this is Orlais newest plan to retake Ferelden!" Ripping the letter into dozens of pieces Loghain threw the remains into the fire before rounding on him. "And you! You're blind enough to believe her supposed 'love' for you?"

Something snapped within Cailan. Rushing up to the legend Cailan's fist closed around Loghain's doublet. "Our arguments with the Orlesians are a thing of the past, a union like this will secure peace between our nations."

Loghain glared down at first the hand holding onto him, and then Cailan. Things may have progressed for the worse had a light sighing drawing both of their attention. From his seat Tonan was shaking his head. "Well, that's one way to look at it." Tonan said surprising both of them.

Swatting Cailan's hand off of him Loghain gave his new King a level look. "A naïve way of looking at it. The Orlesians are good at lying, they have an entire game devoted to it. They always lie." Loghain said with no attempt at hiding his contempt.

Cailan couldn't deny that all the nobility in the Orlesian Empire play the Grand Game, but Celene was the master of it and Cailan believed her love for him was genuine. In his mind there was no reason to lie.

"The Orlesians are a masked empire, they hide behind expensive masks but a dagger is hidden behind their backs waiting to strike when someone slips up." Tonan said this as if he was reciting text from a book. "They lure you in, allow you to become complacent and when your guard is down they strike at your back."

Loghain nodded in agreement. "We defeated them once and now they wish to be discreet about how they plan to invade Ferelden now. I will not allow a son of Maric to marry an Orlesian."

Cailan knew that he couldn't change their minds. "You're both wrong." He quietly said. "Brother, I expected you to understand."

"I do understand." He said. Cailan felt hope returning, with his brother on his side he could sway Loghain. "But…"

Cailan's heart sank, his hope faded. "I need a united Ferelden, this 'marriage' will surely divide the nobility. And if the Orlesians use this to take over I cannot risk it. I am sorry but I will not risk Fereldens future. You cannot marry Empress Celene."

#

The walk to the bedroom felt long and weighted. Cailan had stormed off in outrage after his decision had been made. Loghain told Tonan not follow him in the hopes that he would cool down and come to his senses. Cailan's words about their arguments being a thing of the past still rang in his mind. Orlais could be a valuable ally if and when the darkspawn invaded. But Orlais couldn't be trusted. And as it stood now there was far too much animosity between the two nations. Even if Celene was sincere about her love, the nobility in Orlais wouldn't stand for such a union and may even openly rebel against her.

Change would have to occur, and change is not always peaceful.

The whole situation had so many unpredictable outcomes. The coming months would be a challenge if Cailan decided to push this. Bryce Cousland would possibly support Cailan. The Teryn was a close advisor to him and he represented Ferelden in Orlais, meaning that he'd travelled their more than twice a year.

Arl Howe would be outraged and he would rally the nobility of Amaranthine against the marriage. Unless of course Teryn Cousland could corral his subject. It was harder to tell how the other nobility would react.

Shaking his head he tried to dispel the thoughts of his brother. It would be best to deal with Cailan in the morning. At the moment…he had a new wife waiting for him. And he did not need the image of his brother's disappointed face interrupting this moment.

Arriving at his room he could see a faint light emerge from the bottom of the door. Anora had been waiting for him, he could picture her now, reading a book while lying on the bed. He didn't want to tell her of Cailan's plan and Celene's proposal. She would have to find out later. He really didn't want to ruin her day.

Opening the door to their room he felt himself smile at the sight that awaited him. Anora was wrapped in their fur blanket reading the History of the Free Marches. The book wasn't surprising. She'd been reading up on the histories of other nations quiet frequently as of late.

Hearing the door open she looked up from her page and regarded him with a kind loving smile as she placed a bookmark in-between the pages. "I hope I didn't keep you too long, my love?" He cooed closing the door behind him.

"No not at all." She smiled. "I've only just went through three very long chapters about Viscounts and Viscountess'. It was all very interesting." She placed the book on the small table next to the bed. Tonan undressed to his undergarments and joined Anora, he wrapped his arms around her.

Anora ran her fingers up and down Tonan's chests in a seductive way. "So, what did Cailan want to talk about?" She asked.

Her question made him pause. What should he tell her? That Cailan wanted to marry the Empress of Orlais? Anora was not like her father, she would probably see the benefits in such a marriage. And while Tonan did see that, he also saw the other side of the coin along with Loghain.

"Some dribble about the Grey Wardens. It wasn't as important as he made it out to be." He lied drawing her to him in an attempt to distract her.

Anora broke the embrace and looked at him in the eye. "So he intends to join the Wardens?" She said aghast.

"No, nothing like that." Although maybe that would be best. "Like I said it wasn't as important as he made it out to be."

Anora took what he said as the truth. Though if she found out the truth he would surely face her wrath. He wanted nothing more than to push the whole business out of his mind and focus on Anora tonight.

Leaning forward Tonan captured her in his arms again all the while placing light kisses along her neck making Anora softly moan. "We will speak more on that in the morning." She said through passionate sighs. Pulling the covers up enough to cover the both of them Tonan proceeded leaving a trail of light kisses down her skin. The morning would bring a new day and hopefully in the coming weeks a future heir.


	4. The Tourney of the Queen

**Hey everyone!**

**Sorry if I made you wait long but here chapter four! Hope you guys enjoy the read. Please tell me what you think.**

**Another round of thanks to my beta reader ffdrake!**

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**4**

_**The Tourney of the Queen**_

Waking up next to Anora was always a beautiful sight, but for some reason she was more radiant to behold this morning. Maybe it was due to the fact that they were now husband and wife, a fact which brought a smile to his face and only served to make her that much more beautiful. He was captivated by her beauty and was enjoying just looking at her no matter how much time passed. She stirred a bit, making Tonan's heart jump at the prospect that she might wake, but she only rolled over revealing her bare back. She let out a soft giggle. She must be having a good dream. Best not to disturb her.

Carefully getting out of bed, he felt the cold on his skin, its icy fingers made him shiver. Although it was mid-spring, Ferelden morns started cold. He turned to face the bed where he noticed Anora's white and smooth skin was exposed to the cold. Raising the sheets to cover her exposed back he placed a gentle kiss on her head. She was so beautiful, her beauty would always be engraved in his mind and heart. Putting on his finer red royal jacket, he turned back to gaze upon Anora…finding to his surprise that she had quietly awoken.

"How long have you been awake?" He asked as he finished putting on his black leather belt.

Anora sat up revealing her womanly features. No man could resist the sight of a naked woman and he was no different. "For a while now." She cooed. "Where do you think you are going?" The queen looked at her king with her blue eyes, the memories of their love making glimmering in her eyes.

"I'm going to make sure everything is going smoothly with the tourney preparations. It is being held in celebration of our marriage after all." He returned her look. It was plain on both their faces that they didn't want to part, but their duty to Ferelden couldn't be ignored.

Anora got out of bed, her blonde hair was down and messy, she took slow teasing strides towards her draws. Opening one and bend most provocatively she began her search. Back in their youth he would have averted his gaze out of respect when she stood up fully naked, but now as they were older it was not uncommon to see each other naked. Anora quickly put on her fancy Orlesian purple silk nightgown, a wedding present from Empress Celene who—thankfully—wasn't able to attend the wedding.

"I too have business to attend to. I am to be admired by many noble ladies while drinking tea and eating fine sweets." She said which such flatness.

Anora never had gotten used to how she was supposed to act as a noblewomen of Ferelden. Anora had a taste for plain food and water, thanks to her father raising her both as a commoner first and later as a noblewoman. She found the things they did, quite odd. Truthfully so too did he. He thanked the Maker that Anora wasn't like the other noble women who peened for his attention.

"Well enjoy your tea then, my love." He said with a playful smile. Anora smiled back. She then drew closer to him. He captured her in his arms and gave her a passionate kiss before he left the room.

"I will see you this evening. During the tourney. I'll be wearing the gown that you like." She teased him by running her finger under his chin. "Until then, enjoy our day. Husband."

She kissed him this time, slowly and softly. It made the passion for her burn within him. The kingdom could wait, just a little longer, couldn't it? Anora broke the kiss but remained close to his lips. He could feel her breath against his skin. "Time to get going. I'm sure you have many people to meet. I love you, my king."

"I love you too, my queen."

Tonan made his way to the door, he took one last look at Anora she was still standing their looking at him with a smile. He continued to look at her even as he closed the door. He softly put his forehead against the door and didn't relinquish his hand from the handle.

Last night's confrontation with his brother flashed back into his mind. Cailan, his younger brother had shown him Empress Celene's proposal to marry him. He had refused to allow Cailan to marry her and he knew that his decision had hurt his younger brother so much. Maybe Cailan would forgive him in time. Refusing the marriage was best for Ferelden, he had to make Cailan understand the dangers of Orlesian politics. Hopefully, after the tourney he would be calm enough to talk too. Or then again…maybe not.

Orlais would gain the most out of the wedding of course. If he and Anora failed to have an heir while Celene and Cailan did. It would create a dangerous precedent. The worse situation in Tonan's mind, and from what he could tell from Loghain's reaction his as well, was that Celene would have him and Anora assassinated so Cailan would take the throne.

The situation was vexatious indeed, their father had allowed them to follow their hearts to wherever they might lead, be it an elven woman or a highborn Antivan. But Tonan had refused his brother even that. He felt guilty about it. But he knew that Orlesians couldn't yet be trusted, there was still too much animosity between their two nations.

He sighed listlessly, thinking about it wouldn't help. He had much to do today. And not overseeing the tourney preparations, no. He was to begin making his moves to strengthen Ferelden. He decided that he would have to deal with Cailan later.

He let go of the handle gently and turned around. A guard approached and when the man noticed his king, he stopped in his tracks and bowed.

"Guard, I have a task for you." He said to the man.

The guard jumped to attention. "Anything, your Majesty."

Tonan was please at the guard's behaviour, the training regimes that his father put into place were still holding to this day, but they needed to be better. "I would have you find Seneschal Bryant, tell him to meet me in the throne room. I wish to speak with him regarding the countries food stockpiles."

The guard bumped his fist against his chest. "Right away, you Majesty." The guard made haste to his duty that his king had set for him.

Seneschal Bryant was an aging man who'd been the seneschal for Maric for many years. He was first appointed during Tonan's grandmother's rule during her days in hiding. His duties were to oversee the day-to-day management of wherever they camped. During the assassination of his rebel queen grandmother, Bryant was captured and his left hand was taken as punishment by the Orlesian king for serving her. He was then locked within Fort Drakon as a reminder to the Bannorn the penalty for serving the Therin family. Even with such a loss when Maric reclaimed Ferelden he re-took his role as Seneschal for King Maric.

Despite his advanced age he knew the ins and outs of the day-to-day matters of the kingdom. He was a great advisor as well. Tonan trusted the man with his life, as did his father before him.

If a new blight was coming the kingdom, they would need an abundance of food to feed not only the soldiers fighting the darkspawn, but many families that lived in all of Ferelden. The blight would surely dry up trade cutting Ferelden off from its vital supplies. Tonan didn't know how much food had been stored, luckily Bryant would have the information he needed.

Maric told no one else but Tonan of the upcoming blight, Maric believed if he told anyone else, they might not believe him and think he'd gone mad.

To prepare Ferelden, Maric had made several levies regarding recruitment of soldiers for Fereldens military under the guise of replacing all the men and women who died during the Ferelden Rebellion.

At first Tonan thought, as many others did, that the darkspawn had died out during the last blight four hundred years ago. But there was something about his father's face when he told him of the witch's prophecy that made him believe as his father did. When he was a child the thought of a blight scared him, but Maric would always tell him the stories of the Grey Wardens of old and how they fought against the blights, no matter the losses.

He would need the Grey Wardens for the coming blight, as only the Wardens could defeat the Archdemon. Tonan had plans to speak with Duncan today. He knew that Duncan would watch the tourney with great interest as he was looking for new recruits amongst the participants.

Making his way towards the throne room the servants who were busy this morning cleaning up after the celebration feast bowed and moved aside as he passed. A female elven servant was sweeping the dirty off the floor. Like the other's before her she too stopped and bowed as the he passed.

The two guards stationed outside the throne room, adorned in fine traditional Ferelden armour, noticed his arrival and opened the doors for him. "Thank you." He said to the nearest man, who in return crossed his arms across his chest and bowed.

All signs of the previous night's festivities had been removed from the throne room. The long hall looked just as official as it did before the wedding. Part of him was sad to see the decorations go; they'd made the room feel brighter. The only two occupants within the room, one human and the other elven, were lighting the two fire places that stood on either side of the throne. Even in spring the throne room would grow cold.

"Your Majesty," The human female gasped dropping the tray of soot she'd been holding as she'd turned and spotted him.

The elven male servant, drawn by his companion shocked gasp turned following where she was looking and saw him. "Your Majesty, we are so sorry. We didn't know that you'd be using the room so early." The elf bowed, rushing towards his companion waving his hands at her. "We shall take our leave immediately."

"It is quite all right. My arrival was a spur of the moment. Please continue with your duties." Tonan said waved his hand for them to continue.

The two servants looked each other uncertain of what to do. "No…no we shall leave you about your kingly business, Your Majesty. We shall no longer intrude." The male elf chewed, he gestured to the female servant to leave and she did so with such a hurry.

'I shouldn't have expected anything different,' he thought as the two servants left.

Walking up the dais to the throne he felt slight trepidation. He'd had no trouble sitting on it in past, but now he felt hesitant to sit upon it. Placing his hand on the left arm of the throne he began to rub it with his thumb. He became lost in thought about all the times that his father must have sat upon this throne, listing to the nobility drawl on and on about various matters. How many solutions did he give out if any at all? How many secrets did this room hear that weren't meant for anyone's ear?

"You summoned me, Your Majesty?" An old voice called out, bringing Tonan back to his senses. Tonan was so deep in thought that he didn't hear the aged man enter.

The man was balding what hair he had was white, the winkles on his skin marked his age the old man stoked his long beard that reached to his chest. "Seneschal Bryant." Tonan was delighted to see the man had made it unaided, especially at this time in the morning. "I trust I didn't disturb you much?"

The old man placed his only hand on his white drawn out beard and with his aged fingers picked a large bread crumb out from it. "I was in the middle of breaking my fast. But…when your man mentioned that you wanted to talk…about the food stockpile …I came as quickly as my legs could carry me." He placed the crumb into his mouth and swallowed it.

"I am very sorry… I'll have some servants bring you your meal down…"

The old man waved his only hand dismissively. "You'll do no such thing. I tire of the same old dribble that my daughter serves me. I'd rather have some bacon and a side of beef with a large helping of gravy rather than porridge and stale bread every single day. But my daughter would have my hide if she found out I had some." The aged man announced with more energy than he had before. "But you can at least get a servant to fetch me a damned chair so I can seat myself. These old legs are not quite what they used to be my lord."

Once one of the servants brought the old man a chair he, slowly and with great exertion, sat down. Tonan stood in front of him, they were just at the steps of the dais. The elder picked a small scroll out of the satchel tied to his belt. The scroll was branded with the seal of the Arl of Denerim, Urien Kendells. The elder handed his king the scroll, he quickly removed the seal and rolled it out. He read the numbers written on the scroll and nodded.

"From the last…counting what Arl Kendells men had counted…there is enough food in the stores to feed all of Denerim…for two more winters…we could stretch that, barring any unfortunate incidents." The man slowly summarized as he struggled through gasps to get some of his words out.

"And…by what do you mean by, 'unfortunate incidents'?" Though he asked the question he already knew the answer to it.

War.

"By 'unfortunate incidents' I mean, wars, elven uprisings and such. Surely you knew this before you asked? But no matter." The elder man took the scroll back and rolled it up.

"I think I'll have the Arls men here, as well as every other noble, do their best to put aside some extra food and wheat in storage. I'll also hold back a portion of each harvest. As you said, we have enough food in the stores and granaries to last two, winters we can afford to hold back a portion from each harvest." Tonan announced to the man, who was shocked at this.

"Majesty, there's no need. We have enough…and I'm certain that others among the Bannorn surely have enough too. Wait…are we going to war? What is going on?" The elder spluttered.

Tonan gave him a look his father had nearly beaten into him every day of his youth. A look that could inspire both fear and courage. The look of a king. "Calm down, we are not going to war. I'm just thinking of the future. The future, as I am told, is uncertain at best. We cannot predict when misfortune will strike Ferelden. Best to be prepared, don't you agree?"

The old man calmed down and began stroking his beard considering his words and hopefully seeing the wisdom in them. "True, indeed. You are looking ahead into the future and leaving nothing to chance. You've become very wise, if only your father could…see you now. He would be as proud as I am." The elder man said with a wide smile, but it then sank into a frown. "Be careful of how you go about this…as long as your terms are fair, the Bannorn will carry out your decisions."

He didn't need reminded of that. Tonan knew when to push and when to back down, he was not some tyrant like Arland was during the early years of the Storm Age. An Orlesian scholar had discovered the truth of Arland's rule during Maric's rule and with backing from the Emperor of Orlais, publish his findings around the world.

The old man stared at him for a moment, considering his words to speak next. "Was that all?" The elder's hand began to tremble as he let out a wet, rough cough. "You need only enjoy today, you can…worry about this situation…later—" The elder violently spluttered and coughed.

Tonan rushed to the door and yelled for a nearby servant to come. The man was old, too old to be the seneschal for much longer. Both of them knew it, but Tonan couldn't find it within him to let him go. So he resigned himself to allow the man to hold the position until his death. He had been doing his duty to the crown with the aid of Arl Kendells, the Arl of Denerim.

Collecting himself, Bryant stood up from his chair as an elven servant ran up to him, helping him keep his balance. "It seems I won't be…able to watch the festivities of the day. I shall have…Arl Kendells take over from here…there's not more else to do."

Tonan placed his hand on the elders shoulder and gave him a heavyhearted look. "Rest easy, old friend."

The elder gave him a pained expression in return. He looked like he was going too objected. "Yes…yes of course, Your Majesty."

Watching as the man shuffled away, he remembered a time when the man wasn't so old. Where the man, despite the loss of his hand was still able to use a blade and was sharp enough to outwit any man or woman. He smiled at the memories, but he pushed them out his mind. He had a tourney to attend with his wife.

He glanced over at the throne._ 'I still have time, time to make Ferelden into something…grander. Watch over me until then father.'_

#

The palace district was a bustle with activity for the tourney. Knights and their squires were preparing their arms and armour that would be used in one of the many events of the day. Many of the gathered knights wished to prove their mettle by fighting in the grand melee against warriors of Ferelden and other lands. The grand melee would be the last event of the day, so they had ample time to prepare. Tonan was being escorted by four knights as he made his way through the district. His destination was the jousting arena on the outskirts of Denerim, the event was going to start in a few hours and he wished to arrive ahead of time to meet his wife.

"Ah, your Majesty. I'm so glad I caught you." An Orlesian accented voiced called from behind.

Tonan winched as he knew very well who the voice belonged to, Francis Dulac, Empress Celene's ambassador. Tonan turned to great the man, as he had to he could not ignore the Orlesian for long. It wasn't the first time they'd met, but his appearance always surprised him as it changed from week to week. This week Francis's normally flowing brown hair was tied in a ponytail fully showing off his frowning face with a freshly trimmed goatee jutting out from his chin. Just the week prior Francis had a full beard, but now all that remained was the hair wrapping around his mouth. His grey eyes, watched eagerly as Tonan approached him.

The four knights that were escorting him stayed at least two steps behind, but their attention wasn't on the Orlesian ambassador. No, their gaze was on the female elf that was at his heel.

"Ambassador Dulac. You wish to speak with me?" Tonan said with as much courtly curtsey as he could stomach. He never liked the man, especially his bard that followed him. Tonan knew a bard when he saw one, though to her credit she hid it well.

The elven bard stood behind her master, her blue eyes not blinking, scanning the area around them, watching Tonan's knights, studying every single movement they made. Tonan knew that the Orlesian ambassador would be watching him carefully, experienced players of the Game were so skilled that even a movement made unconsciously, by habit would lay bare the truth about oneself. _'These Orlesians and there damned Game,_' he thought.

"It is about the matter of your younger brother, Cailan Theirin. I understand he has yet to wed." The man said with cold voice.

Tonan didn't like where this was going, he steeled himself for any mention of Celene he didn't want to reveal that he already knew what the Empress proposal to Cailan. "Yes, that is true. He will wed when he wishes to be wed, or if I arrange for him to wed." He said, making sure nothing in his expression would betray him.

The Orlesian looked at him and ran two of his fingers across his goatee a few times. "Hmm. I had heard, from a very reliable source. That the young Theirin's heart already belongs to someone. Someone, very beautiful, cunning and powerful. I wonder what your opinion is if the two decide to wed." He finally said.

Tonan lip made a slight twitch at the thought of what Cailan's announcement last night, the twitch was enough to betray him to the Orlesian. This Orlesian bastard knew about Celene's proposal! It all came into place now in his mind, Cailan and Celene must have been trading missives through Francis. How much more the Orlesian knew about this, he didn't know. The Orlesian smiled at Tonan's reaction.

Tonan quickly collected his thoughts and gave the man a smile, which threw him off guard. "I wouldn't know what to say. But Cailan is still young and he has yet to truly find himself. I have no wish of speaking down on him, but he doesn't know what he really wants. Yet."

The Orlesian ambassadors frown became more prominent. "I see." The ambassador said breathlessly. "Well, I shall no longer disturb you on this special day. Good day to you, Your Majesty." The ambassador bowed and with a quickness in his step that Tonan hadn't seen before, moved passed Tonan, his bard close on his heel and shooting him a quick cold glare as she passed. The standoff was over…for now. Tonan had no doubt in his mind that this wouldn't be the last he heard of the man this day.

Tonan turned and saw that his four escorts were all gaping at him with bemusement, lacking any understanding of what had transpired between the two. The Orlesian was bold to confront him, if he knew that he had already refused to allow the marriage between Cailan and Celene then the man hid well. It was also possible that he had already sent word to the Empress. He clenched his fist in anger.

"Davin, I need you to find 'Roach'. Tell him to meet me in my pavilion before the Grand Melee." Tonan dared not say the man's true name in public, if word got back to the Orlesians about him, more than likely the man would end up dead in a ditch. "He should be skulking near the alienage, this time of day."

Davin crossed his arms across his chest and bowed as much as his armour permitted him to. "Yes, Your Majesty."

#

The closer he got to alienage the less humans there were. The cobblestone path abruptly ended and what greeted him was an overused dirt path leading to a poorly maintained wall. Vernon 'Roach' Carsten calmly walked into the alienage with no guards at his flank. Inside the alienage was a sight that he was all to use to. Dilapidated buildings littered the slums, some buildings had collapsed into others by the looks of some. Three elven men glared at him, but when they noticed his weapons their gazes retreated. There a few guards dotted around they wore brown coat with grey sleeves, the way they walked suggested they were protected by chainmail underneath, grey leather boots covered their feet. They all wore a grey iron helmets to protect from thrown rocks from the elves. Grey steel shield were slung over their backs, the shields were emblazoned with the heraldry of the Arl of Denerim. They all hand their hands resting on the pommel of their steel swords, a warning not to mess with them.

They were patrolled the alienage, grousing as they did. They paid him no heed and his travel through the bustling elven crowd was unimpeded. He didn't need to explain himself to the arls men, he was here on business for the crown.

Within moments of stepping into the alienage he arrived at his destination, a small stable for horses. The elves were not allowed to own horses but they raised them to sell to merchants or…other questionable people. His mission was to find someone.

A horse whinnied nervously at his approach of the stables. The elven stable master scurried over to calm his only horse. "Sorry, mi'lord. She is spooked easily after…after what happened." The man was nervous and clearly frightened. The elf's callus hands were clearly shaking as he rubbed the horse's mane in an attempt to calm her. _'Does my appearance frighten him?'_ He thought.

On reflection though…it was too surprising. He was a gruff looking man and he was well-armed. He wore a plain blue cloth as a bandana, it hadn't been washed for a month it was thick with the stench of death. His black hair was a styled mullet. On his sword belt was a single rounded mace, on the dual scabbards on his back was a two-handed greatsword a longsword. Vernon rubbed his thick black stubble, looking around the near empty stable, sawdust covered the floors. He saw a few specks of red near the gates. He quickly put together a scene in his mind at what had transpired here.

"Who killed your horses and why?" he bluntly said. The elven man growing more and more nervous with each word and was now starting to visibly panic.

"N-nothing happened. I sold most of my horses the other day..."

Vernon sighed at the obvious lie. He blatantly reached for the hilt of his mace. Perhaps the fear of pain will loosen his lips.

The elven man sagged at the sight of the weapon and raised his hands to protect his face. "Please, I don't want no trouble with the arl no more! I'll leave with her, you'll never see me again!"

"Easy, I won't hurt you. I'm here looking for your daughter. I need to see her." Vernon felt bad for the man, but he was trained to use anything at his disposal and pain was an easy way to get answers.

"You're not with the arls men. Are you?" The man murmured with the timbre of a child.

"No I am not." He said quickly. "What's your name?"

The elf's eyes darted around clearly no human had once bothered to ask his name before, this was a new experience for him. "I – it's Naeven, mi'lord." He said quietly.

The elf rose as he was bidden. "Show me to your daughter. And depending on what I see, I will have some measure of justice be meted out."

Naeven led Vernon to the back of the stables where there was a house. The stable was built in front of his home. The inside of his home looked much like the stable. Straw littered the floor, a wooden table with differing legs stood askew in the middle of the room. Clay cups and plates were placed in a haphazardly manner, they all had cracks and chips on them. The air with thick with the smell of vomit and sweat, the stench made his nostrils twitch. There was a few candles about the room on broken shelves and next to a single bed role, where a single worn out book lay alone.

"How long has it been since the…"

"Six months now. She doesn't eat much at times. When she eats on a bad day she…throws it back up." The elven man said adding the last bit of information to explain the smell. "Jonala. Please come out. A visitor wishes to speak with you."

A petit elven girl, almost waiflike in stature, slowly stepped out from her room. It looked as if she was forcing herself to move forward and also to pull back. She wore a long white tunic caked with dirt and blood, her skin was coated in sweat giving her a glow in what candle light there was. What stood out about her, and the reason for his visit in the first place, was her middle. She was round with child.

Vernon said nothing as he approached the girl. She let out a low whimper and her arms came around her round belly protectively obviously fearing what he might do to her. Poor girl, what she must have gone through.

He knelt in front of her, she looked almost fifteen years of age but he couldn't tell. She had her eyes closed muttering something under her breath. He raised his fingerless gloved hand and touched the bulge of her stomach. He blanched and shock his head forlornly. "How old is she?" He finally asked.

"Fourteen years." Naeven said in a brittle voice.

Vernon stood sullenly. He couldn't understand how men could rape a child, even an elven child, it went against the Maker's own will. "Who was the villain who did this? Uriel? One of his men?" The anger was burning in him now like a firestorm.

Naeven stood with his fingers fidgeting a rivulet of sweat began to bead down the side of his face. "I told him I did, that my girl was with child. The fool I was, I thought I could get some gold off him. But his men ran me off…then they came in the dead of night. Barged in here like they owned the place and held a sword to my throat while other men killed my horses. 'Don't tell anyone, or we'll kill all three of ya!' they said."

"Who!" Vernon yelled louder than he wanted to.

Naeven flushed with shame. Vernon could tell the man wished to tell him but his fear of the man who did this to his daughter kept him from talking. Vernon grabbed the elf by his scrawny throat. Jonala screamed at him to stop. "Tell me! Give me a name!"

"V – V – V – Vaughan! The arls son!" He wheezed.

Vernon released him from his grasp and inclined his head towards the elven girl. Vaughan, the only son of Arl Uriel Kendells. Rumours had been circulating around court lately of Vaughan's late night sorties into the alienage, and this elven girl proved it.

Vernon lowered his head. "I'm so sorry. I will make sure that you will have some measure of justice. I swear."

Leaving the stables behind Vernon gave a ragged sigh. Tonan had sent him to confirm that Vaughan Kendells had been abusing elves without just cause. Weeks of investigating the dregs of the alienage had turned up only the information on this girl, one of Vaughan's latest victims. He spat in disgust, Vaughan disgusted him. How can he justify what he'd done to a child!?

He left a pouch of silvers for the man to buy some new horses he could do nothing else without a royal seal from the king. A well armoured man approached him, he knew the man. Davin. He walked up to him, giving the elves he passed glares.

"Davin. What brings you here?" He asked.

"The king requires you wait in his pavilion. He wishes to talk to you." Davin replied.

"About what?"

Davin shook his head. "I know naught, but it seems important."

Vernon nodded, waving for the knight to lead him to the King. He need to talk to him as well.

#

The spring air was still crisp at midday. There was a gentle breeze that brought with it the smell of sweet smelling flowers. The fields outside of the city were a sight to behold, though not as grand as other views from around the world, this sight has personal attachments to it. Once Maric had taken both him and Cailan to the outskirts of Denerim and simply played games, making pretend battles. It was his fondest memory.

Tonan walked up the West Road and turned to face the river. There were at least a hundred pavilions camped near the Drakon River. Above each the standards of each noble family fluttering gently with the breeze. On the opposite side of the pavilions was where the jousting would take place. The first of the event of the tourney was the joust, followed by archery, then the melee followed at last by the Grand Melee. Of course all nobles would no doubt be placing bets on who would win each event. By the days end there will be a lot of nobles without a single sovereigns in their pockets.

The common folk were allowed to watch and gathered at their designated stands. The stands themselves looked like they would fall apart at any moment from the weight of the people. He didn't like that. Someone would pay for this later he would have to hope to the Maker than no one would get hurt if the stands fell apart.

The royal horn blew to announce his arrival; the area grounds fell silent as all the people of Denerim turned to look at him. "Long Live King Tonan!" A noble man cheered sparking others around him to cheer him as well soon everyone was cheering. Tonan waved to them all, he felt like he was truly loved by the people.

He made his way up to the royal stand on either side of the royal stand where the stands to house the banns, arls and sers. Teryn Cousland and his family were allowed to sit in the royal stand as they held power second only to his own. Teryn Loghain sat behind the queen's seat.

Cailan was nowhere to be seen, that didn't comfort him one bit, not after his 'talk' with Francis. He took his place on his seat, settling in on the comfortable red cushion placed on it. Loghain stood up and stood next to his king, before leaning over so his words could reach Tonan's ears and no one else. "I have Cailan locked in his room, under guard. After last night he might attempt to contact the empress." He whispered. "And I order them to turn down any Orlesian 'guests' that might visit him."

After what Francis had said Tonan full heartily supported the idea, but that didn't mean he didn't liked the idea. He was treating his brother like a criminal. It's only for today, he told himself. "I had the most interesting encounter with Francis Dulac. He seems to know about Celenes marriage proposal. How much I don't fully know, but, I suspect that he was the one Cailan went too to send his missives to Celene."

Loghain scoffed in disgust. "Maker knows why Maric allowed the Orlesians to have an embassy here." He said no more on the matter as they drew a look from Teryn Cousland. Tonan gave the Teryn a reassuring nod.

"We shall speak of this matter later, Loghain." He whispered.

Loghain sank back into his chair and sighed. This whole business was affecting him the most, maybe he will stay and help him with these matter, instead of searching for Maric at sea and wasting his own wealth in the process.

The horn blew again, signalling the arrival of royalty as it did with him. The crowds grew silent as Queen Anora left her entourage and walked up the steps to the royal stand. Her arrival caused him to get up from his chair to greet his wife. She wore a blue coloured gown that was laced at the back it was adorned with a creamy floral pattern. It was cut low in the front to highlight her features. Tonan favoured this gown as it truly highlighted Anora's beauty.

He took her hand gently and raised it to his lips, "My Queen." He said softly. The queen met his gaze and gave him a loving smile. The on-lookers, both commoner and noble alike, cheered their blessings to the newly wed.

They both took their seats in unison and soon after the tourney began in earnest. Many knights from all over Ferelden were here to participate in the tourney. Ser Reinfrid and Ser Emoni were facing each other in the first match of the joust. Ser Reinfrid was a knight in the service of Arl Leonas Bryland, the arl of South Reach, Reinfrid had won all in joust in many different tourneys and was favoured to win the joust this day.

Ser Emoni was new to knighthood. She was knighted by Bann Eremon only a month ago, rumours say she was fierce with a lance. Odds were that she would lose today, but Tonan had a feeling the woman could in fact win…the first match at least.

Ser Reinfrid wore his silverite plate armour, it had seen its share of battles a few dents there a starch there. In the sunlight it barely shined at all, only a few glares of light on his right shoulder. Ser Emoni wore black stained iron armour by the looks of it, it was made specifically to highlight the two rounded bosoms were here breasts were, she wanted to make sure everyone knew she was a woman, and if she won it would be as if she was saying, you were bested by a woman.

When the flag came down the two knights horsed galloped forth, before everyone knew it Ser Reinfrid had been un-horsed in one single stroke. Cause cheers and boos from the crowd. Tonan clapped loudly and was soon followed by other nobles.

"She is good." Anora whispered. He agreed with her, no one had unhorsed Ser Reinfrid for nearly a decade now.

Servants brought some wine as the joust continued. Ser Mannford defeated Ser Wooden, Ser Remon defeated Ser Symond after three tilts. There was at least one injury, Ser Hemon's arm broke from a stray lance the bone was sticking out of his elbow and was taken away to be healed.

The last match of the joust was a surprise as Ser Emoni was defeated by an Orlesian Chevalier, who was Francis son, Lucque. Tonan knew the lad made rare appearances with his father but it was well known the lad didn't much care for Ferelden and so travelled back and forth between Denerim and Orlais often. But with this an Orlesian won the joust and many nobles began hissing insults to the man and soon they began calling for a rematch believing the match was rigged by the Dulac family.

Francis made his way up to the royal stands in triumphant strides, a grin wide on his face. "It seems that your knights are no match of the might of the mighty chevaliers of my homeland." He mocked. Was this retribution for him not allowing Cailan to marry Celene? If so it was a good move to sour relations towards Orlais.

"Your chevaliers were kicked out of Ferelden by the army I commanded!" Loghain said as he exploded out of his chair.

Francis looked at Loghain and let out a mocking breath. "The Hero of River Dane? You should be ashamed of these knights they used to give the order pause but it seems they are no longer any match for the chevaliers anymore. Times are changing, it seems."

Anora gave her husband a worried look, the man was goading Loghain. If anything were to happen to Francis, injury or death, it would sour the already tense relationship with Orlais. Tonan held no love for Orlais but he didn't want to drag Ferelden into a pointless war with the empire.

"Times are indeed changing, ambassador. But we men can hardly tell what will change and what will stay the same." He said giving Loghain a stern look and the man sat back down. "Even the mightiest empire can crumble into obscurity, look at the Tevinter Imperium. The Tevinters had a mighty empire but when Andraste and her army rose against their tyranny they managed to topple that empires hold on the known world. You know the rest, I trust."

The insult was not lost on Francis, his faced twisted angrily. Tonan knew his veiled insult wouldn't start a war but it would serve as a warning.

"I'll gladly name your son champion of the joust. On one condition." Tonan shifted his chair.

Francis gave him cold look. "What is the condition, your Majesty?"

Tonan let out a slight grin. "Your son must joust one last time against a Grey Warden."

Francis' face went pale, the Grey Wardens were peerless warriors of legend heroes of the blights. Even though there hasn't been a blight in nearly four hundred years they were still renowned for their combat skills. "I don't see any Grey Wardens here." The Orlesian finally said with a smug smile.

"You're not looking closely enough." A man said from below.

There stood Duncan, Warden-Commander of Ferelden. "I and the other Wardens have been watching the joust closely." He said pointing to a warrior in grey armour with a cloak over his right shoulder. Another Warden stepped out of the shadows, an elven female. The armour was worn and bleak the cloak had tears and stains on it just as grizzled at his armour.

"If his Majesty will allow it. Alain will joust your son." The elder warrior said to Francis.

Tonan nodded in agreement. Alain was of low noble birth, his family was distant cousins to the Howe family. Alain had been conscripted into the Wardens two years ago, if he recalled correctly. The man killed his father but was caught in the act by his own mother who had him taken away to be killed, but the Duncan conscripted to use his skills to fight the darkspawn. "This man was fiercer than any with a lance," Arl Howe sat up and boosted immediately. "But I haven't heard anything about his skills currently since joining the Wardens." The arl sat back down as his son, Thomas Howe shifted to get a view of his distant relative.

Alain was given a horse and a lance and he trotted about the list as Francis's son was given another lance to joust with. Alain didn't wear a helmet to protect his face and his armour would offer little protection against a lance, even a jousting lance. He was risking serious injury, death even. But Tonan knew the Grey Warden wouldn't even be touched by the chevaliers lance.

The tilt began and Lucque dug his heels into his horse and it shot off. Alain allowed the man to have a few seconds head start before digging his heels into his horse. Lucque readied his lance to strike at the Wardens neck. Alain saw this but didn't flinch from his charge, they met and Lucque's lance missed Alain's neck by an inch, but Alain's lance hit its target, Lucque's chest, the lance exploded into wooden splinters as Lucque fell from his horse and onto his back. The crowd cheer loudly as the Orlesian struggled to get his breath under control.

Francis' face was white now from shock. His own son lost, was humiliated in front of Fereldans. He swallowed hard as if trying to swallow his anger down so it would not get the better of him.

"I – I see that the Grey Wardens are still with their skills." He swallowed again. "We could all learn from them." He gave a short bow to Duncan as a minimal gesture of good faith. And left towards the lists to his son.

"Never a dull moment, with Orlesians." Anora mused.

Tonan held his wife's hand and looked at her with love, she returned the look and leaned in for a kiss. The day was still young and there were many more events to witness before days end. He was glad that he was in the company of his wife they would enjoy the rest of the tourney together. He would enjoy this momentarily reprieve before going back to business.


End file.
